


The Basis For Any Good Relationship

by Barkour



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-02
Updated: 2012-07-02
Packaged: 2017-11-09 00:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/449172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barkour/pseuds/Barkour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup is definitely not ticklish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Basis For Any Good Relationship

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme fill for [this prompt](http://httyd-kink-meme.livejournal.com/388.html?thread=126340#t126340). Finally de-anoning!

Astrid crept up on him. He'd bent over the drawing table, his hair falling shaggy and copper-specked before his face. His shoulders curled, neat as a bow. He hadn't noticed her knock at the door.

One, two, three quick steps and she was at his back. She smiled down at his nape, then she trickled her fingers along his ribs. 

Hiccup jolted upright. The table jumped with him. "Ahhhhh, what was that!" he said. He flipped around, his arms up in a basic warding. "Oh, Astrid. I didn't hear you come in." He didn't lower his arms.

She looked him over once: his red cheeks, the hitch in his breath, his elbows pinned close to his side. "Hiccup," she said, "you're not ticklish, are you?"

"What?" he said, leaning forward over his arms, now flat against his gut. He laughed, reckless. "Me, ticklish? That's-- No way. Whoever heard of a ticklish Viking? That'd just be ridiculous. I'd like to see that guy."

She smiled without thinking to, a narrow, pleased smile. "You _are_ ticklish."

He sidled toward the door. "What's that, Gobber?" He threw a hand up to his ear. "You need help? Oh, hey, I gotta go," he said to Astrid. "Duty calls. You know how it is." Then he fled, his hands tight against his sides.

Astrid tapped her fingers on her hip. She considered the door, thrown ajar, and Hiccup red-faced and clutching his ribs as he swallowed his breath. He'd flushed beneath his freckles all down his throat, and his green eyes had shone so wide. Astrid swept her bangs across her brow. 

When she left, she left the door open. Hiccup glanced at her across the forge. She spared him a toss of her skirt, spikes flashing as she slipped out of the smithy and into the dim daylight.

*

In the stretch of woods behind her house, she pressed Hiccup against a wilting tree and licked her way into his giving mouth. He curled his fingers in her hair, curled them and uncurled them, dug them into her knotted braid. She ran her tongue behind his teeth. Hiccup sighed; his fingers flexed, tightening in her hair.

Astrid plucked at his tunic, pulling at the strings holding it tight across his chest. Lightly she slipped her hand down, smoothing his shirt over his breast, his ribs, his flat and fluttering belly. Hiccup pushed against her, his shoulders squaring. 

She nipped at his tongue and then she wriggled her fingers down his ribs. Hiccup started, knocking his head against the tree. He flinched.

"You are definitely ticklish," she said, amused. 

He made a face. "I'm not ticklish."

She pressed against him. "Yes," she said, trickling her fingers across his belly and watching as his lashes fluttered and his throat worked, "you are."

"You say ticklish," he said, breathless, "but I prefer sensitive. It's less demeaning. Or more demeaning. Please stop doing that, Astrid, I can't--" He broke off into a moan, rising.

"You know," she said, "you're supposed to be honest in a relationship."

"You're also supposed to respect personal boundaries," he noted, "or maybe I misread that memo."

Astrid wriggled closer, fitting her hips and shoulders to him. She spread her fingers wide across his ribs. His eyes flickered down to her mouth.

"So," she said, "let's compromise." 

She ran her thumb down his hip. His breath caught.

"I like compromise," he said.


End file.
